


you were only a ghost that has stolen my heart away

by atreacherousoldwitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Marauders Fest 2020, Non-Linear Narrative, October 1981 is a bad time, Pining, Remus has a bad time, Remus is as sick of it as everyone else, Romance, Sadly, a bit of bad language, being a werewolf is a real chronic illness, but hopefully it's all self explanatory, but never got around to, description of illness, description of injury, rated m to be safe, shouldn't be too hard to follow, teenage boys swear, the fic I always wanted to write, throwing up/vomiting but not graphic, we jump around a little bit so pay attention to the dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atreacherousoldwitch/pseuds/atreacherousoldwitch
Summary: Remus counts his life in full moons and cups of tea.For the Marauders’ Fest prompt: ‘Sirius and Remus are in Divination and somehow Remus keeps getting the grim but it has less to do with death and more to do with his friend that he has been crushing on for years’
Relationships: Lily Evans/James Potter (Background), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72
Collections: Marauders Fest 2020





	you were only a ghost that has stolen my heart away

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - This is the first fic I’ve ever done for a fest, and it was so fun to write! It’s also the first wolfstar fic I’ve written too. My only apology is that I think I misread the prompt a little bit - I could have sworn it said something specifically about tea leaves (hence the focus on Remus’ tea drinking) and I was half way through this when I re-read it and realised it didn’t. I’m sorry! 
> 
> Enjoy!

————

_And everything slows with my breath_

_As I watch you float across the floor_

_And the night came as it went_

_I could swear that I knew you before_

_Like maybe on another night, we were lovers in another night_

_Or maybe we were always strangers on mystery trains_

_And you were only a ghost that has stolen my heart away_

_‘You have stolen my heart’ by Brian Fallon_

_————_

_Full Moon number 150, Christmas day 1977_

_Cup of tea #6,102_

Christmas day is a total wash out, in the end.

It’s a shame, because it’s their last Christmas together at Hogwarts - the cynical nasty part of Remus’ brain says it might be their last Christmas together, full stop - but the winter moons are always harder, the darkness absolute and the nights longer. So he spends the better part of Christmas afternoon slouched on the floor of their shared bathroom heaving his guts up.

He sends the others away.

There’s no point them wasting their time hovering over him. Eventually, James drifts off to hang out with the girls, and Peter follows on his tail, but Sirius stays. Sirius always stays. Remus knows better than to argue with him.

The nausea is overwhelming. Remus rests his forehead on the toilet seat, ignoring how unhygienic it must be, and holds very very still. Even then his stomach churns and twists and it brings tears to his eyes because _Merlin._ He’d give anything to just make it stop.

Sirius joins him, crouching down, and puts a gentle hand on Remus’ back.

‘Come on Moony,’ he says, soft. ‘No point staying here, you’re not bringing anything up. Come and lie down.’

‘No, I’m gonna be sick,’ Remus mutters back.

‘I’ve got you the bin, come on.’

And Sirius won’t take no for an answer, so together, slowly, so slowly, they ease Remus up to his feet, and Sirius guides him to his bed. Sirius has pulled the blankets back, and added his own pillows, so when Remus lies down he’s propped up.

Sirius obligingly hands over the bin he’s emptied of parchment and wrappers, and Remus wraps his arms around it and hangs his head over the edge.

‘Oh Moons,’ Sirius sighs, and it rubs Remus the wrong way.

‘Go then,’ he snaps, ‘you don’t have to stay.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘You can fucking go if you want. Just leave.’

‘I don’t want. I don’t want to go, I’d rather be here with you.’

And when he glances up at Sirius’ face, there’s a sincerity there that he doesn’t often see. So Remus mellows, and nods even though it unsettles his stomach again.

‘Sorry.’

Sirius sighs again.

‘Don’t be sorry. It’s hardly the first moon I’ve spent with you. I know what it’s like. How about some music?’

He shuffles away, and fiddles with the record player in the corner, sorting through the pile of records on the side. When he can’t find the one he wants, he hunts around the dorm, unapologetically rooting through James’ stuff until he finds it in the bottom of James’ trunk.

He mutters to himself, something that sounds vaguely like ‘that bastard though he could hide it from me,’ and then carefully lines up the player.

They spend the rest of the afternoon top and tail in Remus’ bed. Sirius alternates from sprawling and stretching out, to curling up in a ball like Padfoot. Remus eventually lets go of his white knuckle grip on the bin, and lets Sirius distract him with mindless thoughts and a stream of consciousness kind of commentary on the latest school gossip.

He manages to drift off for an hour, in which Sirius goes quiet and when Remus wakes Sirius is sat crossed legged, and has pulled out James’ nice (and expensive) quill set. He’s tinkering with the map.

‘The third floor corridors are a bit spotty,’ he explains, wand tucked behind his ear, 'I think someone spilt something on these pages, but no one will ‘fess up.’

Remus knows for a fact that James spilt a pitcher of pumpkin juice over the map two days ago, but aside from the small grin he allows himself, he doesn’t say anything.

————

The evening is worse.

Whilst the rest of the school gather in the hall for Christmas carols and, for the older students, mulled wine, Madame Pomfrey helps Remus out into the cold and down the passage way into the bloody shack.

The shack is freezing. The dust that covers _everything_ has frozen, so all the surfaces are warped and blurred. Remus can see his breath.

Madame Pomfrey has been doing this for Remus for almost seven years now (78 full moons exactly, he thinks). She’s also tough and detached in a way consistent with her occupation. Yet even she pauses before she leaves him, frowning. She fusses with the blanket she’s brought with her, and helps him undress. She casts several heating charms, but they don’t really make much of a difference.

‘Alright Remus,’ she says eventually, when there’s less than an hour to go before moonrise, ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ She strokes a hand over his hair in goodbye, and then seals the trap door behind her.

Remus supposes he’d be more depressed about the whole situation if he didn’t know that -

‘Bloody hell,’ James complains, climbing through the door not two minutes later, ‘I thought she’d never leave.’

‘She really fancies me,’ Remus mutters into the damp pillow.

Sirius barks a laugh, and Peter jokes ‘yeah she must do.’

They’re being kind. It wasn’t a particularly witty or clever quip, but Sirius grins like it was and Peter pats him on the leg fondly. Their kindness hurts Remus’ oversensitive nerves, so he closes his eyes and presses his face into the pillow. Sirius puts a hand on his shoulder.

‘Right,’ James says, and he pulls out a goblet from under his cloak. ‘Mulled wine for Moony,’ he sings.

‘Is that a good idea?’ Sirius asks, but Remus stretches out an arm and takes the goblet gratefully.

‘At this point, it’s not going to hurt,’ he says, taking a sip.

‘That’s the spirit.’

The wine is warm and sweet.

It’s nice, for a moment, until the moon moves even closer, and Remus feels his insides jolt. He can’t help the noise he makes in the back of his throat. A sort of wheeze and a gasp all rolled into one. Peter catches the goblet in a moment of uncharacteristic skill, and manages not to spill too much of it. Sirius strokes his hand down Remus’ back.

‘Not long,’ Remus croaks out, ‘you should change.’

‘We’ve still got half an hour,’ James says, ‘I looked it up,’ but Remus is already shaking his head.

He can feel the hair on his arms standing on end, his bones and muscles tensing. Even his teeth ache, lengthening.

‘It won’t be long now.’

They murmur agreement, and within moments there’s the rat, the dog and the stag, in the pace of his friends.

It’s easier when he can’t see their faces.

Remus closes his eyes as the dog pokes a cold nose into his neck and Remus breathes and breathes and breathes and _fuck keep breathing_ until Remus is gone and Moony howls.

————

He wakes to Sirius and James’ arms around him, heaving him up from the floor onto the bed. They’ve done better this month. Last month he’d woken outside the shack, in the freezing cold, and they’d had to carry him almost half a mile back.

It was alright for them, he thinks, still bitter. They had clothes on.

Remus dozes. He half hears James and Peter’s whispered goodbyes, and he can vaguely feel the usual aches and pains that come from breaking and re-breaking bones but nothing to suggest he’s gravely injured.

He lies in this half awake state until Sirius shifts the blankets around him, and pulls out a flask from the bag.

‘There’s tea if you want it?’ he whispers, like he’s not sure if Remus is awake, but wants to offer anyway.

That’s what would surprise people about Sirius, Remus thinks, how quiet he can be. How soft.

Remus hums his agreement, and together they get him propped up enough to take the plastic cup and suck down a sip of tea.

Sirius smiles and it hits Remus like a physical blow.

_Fuck._

He’s so, incredibly beautiful Remus thinks, for a second. And then he mentally slaps himself and shoves the thought back into the box it usually lives in. Seals it closed, tight, with chains and padlocks like a pirate’s treasure chest. Throws it off a cliff into the ocean, just for good measure.

He gulps down the rest of the tea and when he looks into the bottom of the cup -

‘Whatcha got this time?’ Sirius says, leaning onto the bed and peering in, as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

‘Grim again,’ Remus whispers, and it feels like a confession, even though Sirius doesn’t understand.

Sirius laughs.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘no death here tonight, no sir. Not tonight.’

‘Not tonight,’ Remus agrees, and Sirius smiles again and Remus _wants._

Sirius kneels on the creaky floorboards, and they share whispers back and forth until Madame Pomfrey arrives. Padfoot wriggles under the bed to hide, but Remus can see his tail sticking out the bottom and he can’t help sniggering until Madame Pomfrey gives him a strange look.

_————_

_Full moon number 151, 24 January 1978_

_Cups of tea #6,242 and #6,243_

The January moon is infinitely better than the one on Christmas day. The nausea is minimal, and Remus goes to class as normal. In the afternoon he joins the others for study hall.

James has been down to the kitchens and has scrounged up an array of snacks, and an obscenely huge mug of tea for Remus. Peter sniggers when James hands it over, but it’s gratefully received and much appreciated, ta very much.

Prongs makes a bloody good cup of tea. It is, in Remus’ opinion, one of his much under-appreciated skills. His others include the way he always tidies the dorm on a Saturday morning, and the way he organises his t-shirts.

Remus has been mentally writing a list of Prongs’ best attributes. He casually drops them into conversation with Lily, and although she always says otherwise, he strongly suspects that she is not as disinterested as she pretends to be.

McGonagall is supervising study hall - another reason that they’ve come down today - and even though they’re not supposed to eat or drink in study periods, when she glances over at them Remus catches her eye and he smiles at her. It’s his prefect smile. The one that says ‘I’m very trustworthy honestly Professor, I’ve never done anything illegal in my life, cross my heart.’ She frowns slightly, and then inclines her head to him, and passes them by.

‘Nice,’ James mutters into his treacle tart, ‘well done Moony.’

‘See you in bit boys,’ Sirius says, smacking Peter on the back and they watch as he saunters down the table and joins the girls. Marlene wraps her arm around his shoulder, and Remus has to look away while they kiss.

An ugly feeling swells in his chest, and he looks back down to his Divination homework.

‘Merlin’s sake,’ he complains, ‘I hate Divination.’

‘I don’t know why you take it,’ Peter says, ‘I dropped it as soon as possible.’

‘I got an O in my OWL though. It seemed silly to drop it then.’

‘I got an A.’

‘You did well Wormy,’ James says, ‘I was proud of your prediction about the suit of armour.’

‘Wasn’t it supposed to come alive and eat someone?’ Remus says.

‘I forget the details.’

Peter sniggers.

When Remus glances over again, Marlene and Sirius are still kissing. He thinks he can see Sirius’ tongue in her mouth. Peter mistakes Remus’ expression, and says:

‘They’re so gross,’ gesturing his head down the table.

Remus nods, but the look James gives him is awfully shrewd.

He finishes his tea, and, after examining his Divination homework once again - a tea leaf diary - focuses his attention on the soggy mess left in his mug.

It doesn’t take long for him to conclude that at the bottom of his mug, once again, the grim.

_For fucks sake._

He’s seen the grim in the bottom of every bloody cup of tea he’s had for the better part of a year now. And the crystal balls. And the tarot cards. And even - on a very memorable occasion - the lines on his palm.

He looks down at his Divination diary, and quickly decides that it he reports seeing the grim _again_ Professor Blanchett might actually loose her mind, so he makes up some bullshit about a suit of armour and a fall from a great height. Inspired by Peter’s OWL attempt.

They’ve been there for the better part of an hour, and when Remus looks down the table again, he’s mildly distressed to see that Sirius and Marlene are _still cuddled together,_ kissing occasionally.

He’s distracted by Lily, who joins them with a thud, throwing her bag down and sitting with a huff. James nearly knocks over the candle in surprise. His hand raises halfway to his hair, before he catches it. He brings his arm down in an aborted motion, and sticks his elbow in a chocolate cauldron.

Lily doesn’t appear to notice. 

‘I can’t believe them,’ she starts, ‘They can do whatever they want in their own time, but to sit in _public,_ _snogging,_ ridiculous.’

‘Yeah,’ James agrees.

‘They’re not hurting anyone,’ Remus says, and then immediately regrets this decision when both Lily and James round on him.

‘Oh excuse me,’ she says tartly, ‘I don’t really want to see your mate’s tongue in my mate’s mouth.’

The visual twists something deep inside Remus, and Lily can tell because she mellows.

‘I’m sorry Remus, I don’t mean to be aggy. I’m stressed about the exams.’

She tucks her hair back, and pulls out her homework, evidently intending to join them.

With a tact Remus didn’t know James was capable of, they move the conversation swiftly on to safer topic. James keeps peeking at Lily from the corner of his eye, and it’s so _cute,_ that Remus tries to bury the frustration and annoyance in his chest, and focus on his friends around him.

————

Sirius leaves Marlene in good time, and joins them in the shack an hour before moon rise.

Remus is paying the price for an easy day, and he’s doubled over on the bed, throwing up into a bucket. James holds it up for him, because Remus can’t even hold up his head.

‘Shit, Moony,’ Sirius says, as he climbs through the door. Peter is wringing his hands.

Sirius climbs on the bed too, and puts his hand on Remus’ bare back. Remus is clammy, and his muscles are tight and aching.

‘Fuck,’ he whispers.

‘It’s ok Moony,’ Sirius says soothingly, ‘It’s ok.’

‘It’s not!’ He shouts, and it takes more energy than he has. It’s only Peter and Sirius’ hands holding him up.

‘It’s not ok,’ he mutters weakly, ‘it’s not-‘ He retches again, though there’s nothing to bring up. Sirius strokes his hand up Remus’ back, and his palm is hot and heavy.

‘It’s not ok,’ he says again, petulantly, in lieu of anything else. There’s nothing else to say.

‘No it’s not,’ James soothes, ‘but it will be. You’ll be ok, we’re here. We’ll look after you.’

Remus has nothing to say to this kindness.

‘It’s not ok.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘You should change. Please.’

His friends melt away, and with them the hands holding him up. Remus slumps down onto the bed, and he hopes vaguely that they can’t see how his eyes water.

‘I can’t breathe,’ Remus mutters, gasping at air, hands clutching at his chest and his throat, ‘I can’t breathe, please.’

The dog whines, pressing his nose against Remus’ palm, and his friends wait there solemnly until Remus’ skin starts to split and he too melts away.

————

Remus comes back to himself when they’ve already dragged him back onto the bed.

They’re not fussing over him. When he opens his sticky eyes, Peter and James are crouched around Sirius, who is sat on the floor slumped against the wall.

‘What-‘ Remus says, barely.

‘It’s alright Moons,’ Sirius’ voice comes back, strong and clear, ‘just a scratch. Don’t worry.’

‘We need to get you back,’ James says, ‘I’ve got murtlap in the dorm.’

It takes both of them to get Sirius to his feet, and Remus feels sick with guilt.

‘I don’t know what Padfoot did to Moony,’ Sirius says lightly, ‘but Moony was pissed.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Remus says, and he is. He truly is.

‘Forget it,’ Sirius says with a grin, ‘I’m fine,’ and if it wasn’t for the way that he’s leant against James, Remus would believe him.

‘We’ll see you later Moony,’ Peter says, pulling the blanket back over Remus’ shoulders.

He lies, stewing in guilt, for almost an hour until Madame Pomfrey comes to get him.

————

Remus is lying in his bed in the hospital wing, when Sirius sneaks in.

‘Hey,’ he says jolly, ‘I brought you tea,’ and Sirius hands over the mug with a steady hand, and settles himself in the chair by the bed.

‘You should go back to the dorm and lie down,’ Remus says.

‘Nah, Prongsy patched me up with the murtlap, I’ll be fine. I feel like I should apologise to you though.’

‘What?’ and they both ignore the way that his voice cracks. Being a werewolf is hell on the throat.

‘Moony had it out for me last night. Are you mad at me? Did I do something?’

Remus feels hot, a flush that grows from the top of his head, and slides down his spine.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, helpless. ‘It’s not you, honest. I was just a bit - irritable yesterday, Moony must have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.’

Sirius looks at him closely, his dark eyes are intense, focused on Remus’ face. He doesn’t believe Remus, that much is clear, but he’s going to let it go.

‘You’d tell me, if there was something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Because,’ he sits on the edge of the bed, and he puts a hand on Remus’ leg, just below his knee. Remus swallows hard, ‘it’s only me. You can tell me anything. I’d hate to think you’re pissed at me and I don’t know.’

‘I’m not pissed at you. I’m sorry about Moony.’

Sirius watches for a moment more, and for a wild second Remus thinks he should just say it. Say something. Say ‘I think about you every second of every day’, say ‘I would do anything to make you happy,’ or ‘Please don’t kiss Marlene, kiss me instead.’

But he doesn’t. And the moment shifts.

Sirius smiles, and pats Remus’ leg again.

‘Get some rest,’ he says, softly, ‘and don’t forget your tea.’

He slinks out of the hospital wing, and Remus chugs the rest of his tea.

He looks at the soggy mess at the bottom.

Reliably, the tea leaves make the vague shape of a dog. He tilts the mug to the side, and when he gives it a shake, then there is a striking resemblance to Padfoot.

It’s not a grim, Remus is certain of that.

There’s a comfort in this, he thinks, as he settles back for a snooze. The knowledge that whatever happens, Sirius is in his future.

That Sirius _is_ his future.

_————_

_Full moon number 152, 23 February 1978_

_Cup of tea #6,404_

James and Lily are holding hands under the table, and judging by the looks on their faces, they think no one has noticed. And judging by the look on Sirius’ face, he absolutely has.

 _Honestly,_ Remus thinks with a grin.

Sirius catches his eye, and winks.

Today has been fine. Remus felt sick this morning; he threw up before Transfiguration and was fifteen minutes late, but he’s been ok since then. His neck feels tight and sore, and if he shifts his head to the side there’s a burning pain along his spine.

But he’s fine.

Truly.

They’re sat in the Transfiguration classroom, during a free period. The great hall is too busy for Remus today, so they’ve stolen some food - James and Peter stole some food - and they’ve settled in for a chat.

It’s nice. Lily fits into their group seamlessly, as she has for a good couple of months now. Remus can’t get over how _easy_ it seems. It feels like she’s always been there, sat next to James, joking and teasing.

She’s good for Prongs. She doesn’t let him get away with shit, but she’s not uptight. She’s not against a little bit mischief.

They’re lamenting the revision required for their exams, when Sirius gets up to rummage through his bag. On his way past, he slaps Remus on the back affectionately, but _merlin_ that hurts and Remus shifts forwards and lets out a low noise from the back of his throat.

‘Padfoot,’ James chides, and when Remus turns Sirius has paused half way to his bag, eyes wide and apologetic.

‘Shit, sorry Moons. Did I hurt you?’

‘Nah, you’re alright,’ but Remus’ voice is tight and it gives him away.

‘Shit,’ Sirius swears, and before Remus can say anything else, Sirius’ hands come to rest on Remus’ shoulders and he squeezes.

It takes everything Remus has to not make another noise. This one not quite as innocent.

‘This alright?’ Sirius checks, and rubs his thumbs into Remus’ shoulders, along his shoulder blades. ‘I don’t even know how you’re moving, bloody hell.’

James chuckles. ‘Sirius gives a good massage,’ he says to Lily, and she raises her eyebrows.

Sirius’ thumbs make their way up Remus’ neck. He flinches, when Sirius pokes at the sore spot, and Sirius gentles, lightening his touch and rubbing small circles into the side of Remus’ neck, until the tendons loosen.

Remus doesn’t realise it, but his head drifts forward towards his chest, forward and forward as Sirius rubs circles into his aching muscles. He breathes, and this is the most settled he’s been on a full moon day in a while.

When Sirius pats him on the shoulder fondly, and Remus raises his head, the look in James’ eye is all too knowing.

————

The shack is cold and damp.

Remus is, once again, stripped to his underwear, huddled under a blanket on the damp old bed. Pomfrey has gone, less than an hour to go, and Remus is waiting for his wayward friends.

They arrive, in a tumble of swearing and joking, and they cast warming charms on the shack, and gently tease him as he lies prone.

This is fine, he thinks.

This is fine.

Until it’s not.

Remus arches his back, as a striking cramping pain starts up in his spine, in his stomach. He closes his eyes. When he lurches to the side, there’s a bucket under his head, and when he looks up its Sirius holding it, not James. 

‘Sorry,’ he mutters.

Sirius smiles kindly, he leans in, even though Remus probably smells rank, and their faces are close together.

‘Its ok,’ he whispers.

Remus flops back.

‘I hate this,’ he complains, ‘I fucking hate this.’

‘I know,’ James says, and Peter pats him on the back.

Twenty minutes later he’s writhing on the bed, trying desperately to ease the pain in his back, and it’s enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He gasps out, ‘change, change,’ and they do.

The dog hops up onto the bed, pressing his nose into Remus’ neck, against his cheek.

Remus pants, gasping hitching breaths. ‘Fuck,’ he whispers, ‘I don’t want this, fuck.’

The dog whines, and paws at him. Remus grips the bedding in his hands, clenched tight together, knuckles white.

He closes his eyes, and lets the pain take him away.

————

Remus wakes, and James and Peter have already gone. He’s tucked in the bed, and Sirius is holding what looks like a t-shirt to Remus’ shoulder, trying to stem the blood.

‘You awake?’ Sirius asks.

Remus hums.

‘Thank fuck for that, you’ve been out for ages. I was getting worried.’

‘Any problems?’ Remus croaks, ‘Moony still pissed at Paddy?’

‘Nah,’ Sirius says, shifting the t-shirt and for a second it leaves Remus breathless with pain. ‘Best of buds Moony and Padfoot. Back to normal.’

‘Good. That’s good.’

Remus closes his eyes, and drifts to the sound of Sirius’ breathing.

————

The hospital wing. Remus wakes. Sirius is lounging in the chair by the bed, one leg thrown over the arm. He’s got what looks like homework open in front of him, but Remus knows better.

‘Whatcha doing?’ Remus mutters, and Sirius looks up with a grin.

‘I’m messing up James’ Transfig homework. Bugger has a better average than me this year, I’m going to even the odds a bit.’

Remus chuckles.

‘Tea?’

‘Why do you assume that I’ve brought you tea?’ Sirius ask, hand on heart, ‘I don’t exist just to bring you tea.’

‘Ok, but tea?’

‘Yeah, obvs.’

He reaches into his bag, and hands over the flask. Remus mutters a thanks, and takes a gulp.

When he looks up, Sirius is watching him.

His hair has grown out. He’s been growing it since he ran away from home, and now it’s long and curly and he’s pulled it back with one of Lily’s hair ties. His top button is undone, tie askew, shirt untucked. He’s twirling his wand between his fingers, effortlessly, and arrogant.

Remus wants him.

Remus wonders what he sees, when Sirius looks at him.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Remus says.

‘Sure.’

‘Are you - are you upset about Prongs and Lily?’

‘What makes you think that?’

Remus takes another sip of tea.

‘I just thought you were a bit, short, with them earlier. I wondered if you were upset. James loves you, you know. You’re his best mate. That’s not going to change.’

Sirius’ expression is hopelessly fond, and soft and it makes Remus feel warm.

‘What did I say?’ he asks.

Sirius laughs, and shakes his head. ‘I’m not upset, or jealous or anything like that. I’m just - I like Lily a lot, I think her and James are a good match. I just - it’s nice that they’re a couple, you know. It’s very domestic. Easy.’

Remus understands.

‘And you want that too.’

‘It would be nice. Snogging Marlene is one thing, but an actual relationship, yeah, seems nice.’

Remus nods.

‘They were friends first. For a bit at least.’

‘Yeah,’ Sirius looks like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t.

‘What?’

‘Don’t worry,’ he inclines his head. ‘You still seeing the grim in your tea cup?’

Remus glances down, and sure enough, there it is, in the bottom of this stupid plastic cup that Sirius brings him every full moon.

‘Yep. Blanchett might have a full melt down if I tell her again.’

Sirius laughs, and slumps back into his chair.

‘I don’t know if it’s the grim though.’

‘Really?’

‘Maybe it’s just a dog.’

Something crosses Sirius’ face, but Remus is too exhausted to understand exactly what it is.

‘Huh, maybe it’s just a dog.’

Remus hums, and sighs, and settles back against the pillows.

He falls asleep.

_————_

_Full moon number 1,8 December 1965_

_Cup of tea #1_

Remus doesn’t quite understand what’s happening.

Hope and Lyall have cleared out their basement, stacked up the entire contents in the kitchen and living room. Lyall had spent the entire two days previous casting wards and complicated spells in there, and Remus doesn’t quite know why, but he knows that it’s to do with the full moon tonight.

He doesn’t really feel well, and he’s spent the afternoon lying on the sofa. Hope sits next him, stroking his hair and singing to him, silly songs that make him laugh and she reads stories and does all the voices.

It’s getting late, and it feels like there’s something growing under his skin so he cries. Hope cuddles him close, settles him on her lap, and she rocks him. It feels like it’s growing.

‘Mammy,’ he cries, and he can see something in her face that frightens him.

‘It’s time,’ Lyall says from the door way.

‘There’s still an hour to go,’ Hope hisses, her arms tightening around Remus. He sobs into her neck, and he’s made her top all snotty and wet, but she doesn’t care and she holds him close.

‘We don’t know exactly when the moon will rise. He can’t be in here when it does.’

‘I don’t want him in there for an hour by himself. That’s just cruel. He doesn’t understand.’

Lyall turns away, his hands rake through his hair, and he sighs deeply in stress.

‘We don’t know when he’ll turn. We can’t risk it.’

‘Maybe he’ll recognise us. Maybe he won’t-‘ she glances at Remus still weeping in her arms, ‘maybe he won’t.’

Lyall shakes his head. ‘It doesn’t work like that. Come on son,’ and he takes Remus from Hope’s arms.

Remus cries harder, ‘Mammy,’ and Hope hushes him, wiping his cheeks and running her sleeve under his nose.

‘You’re going to be fine my darling,’ she whispers to him, looking close in his face, kissing his cheeks. ‘I’m going to see you in the morning.’

When Lyall heads down the stairs to the basement, Remus can see over his shoulder that Hope is weeping, her hands pressed over her face.

The basement is dark and cold.

They’ve moved a mattress into the corner, and Lyall sits down on it with Remus cradled in his arms.

‘Look at me Remus,’ he says softly, and Remus does. ‘Do you understand what’s happening?’

‘No.’

‘Ok,’ Lyall takes a deep breath, ‘you were bitten by a werewolf, you understand that?’

Remus does. He remembers the horrible night two weeks ago, when a monster had come out of the shadows and grabbed him. His shoulder still aches, the skin not healed up yet.

He’s slept in his parent’s bed ever since. He’s scared of what monsters there are in the dark now.

‘This means that you’re a werewolf too. Tonight is a full moon. You’re going to change into a wolf. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Remus sobs, but it sounds like a question.

‘Why are you crying?’

‘It hurts.’

‘What hurts?’

‘My skin,’ Remus says, raking his hands up his arms. ‘My - my - my bones.’

‘Your skin hurts,’ Lyall repeats back, ‘your bones?’

‘Yes,’ he whines.

‘Ok, ok my darling,’ Lyall strokes his hand over Remus’ hair, and holds him close.

‘Daddy.’

‘I know, I know. I’m going to sit outside the door all night, ok? If you need anything, you call me, ok?’

Remus nods.

‘I’m going to have to go now,’ Lyall says, and his voice is unsteady.

Remus clings to Lyall’s shirt.

‘No, don’t leave. Please,’ Remus sobs, heaving hitching breathes.

‘I’m going to be right outside,’ Lyall says, and he pulls at Remus’ hands to get him to let go.

It takes a moment. Lyall pries Remus’ fingers loose, and settles his son onto the mattress.

‘I’m right outside,’ he says, but Remus barely hears over his sobs.

Lyall closes the door.

Remus screams. He screams and when he realises that his parents aren’t coming back he quiets and settles.

There’s a dull light bulb hanging, and it casts weird shadows on the walls.

Remus feels -

He doesn’t know what he feels. It’s like nothing he’s ever known before. There’s something under his skin, and when he looks at his arm he’s come out in goose bumps, and all his hair is standing on end.

His muscles are tightening and twisting, and it’s an unsettling feeling. He can _feel his bones,_ and he doesn’t _like it._

He’s still sniffing, and he wipes his nose on his sleeve.

Something changes.

The first crack makes him scream. A crack comes from his chest, and he clutches at it, looking down.

‘Daddy,’ he calls out.

There’s another crack, from his back and shoulders, and he screams. And another one. And another.

His skin _splits._ Remus _screams._

And then the world fades away.

————

Remus wakes up sprawled on the floor.

He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know what’s happened. All he knows, is that it hurts.

He lets out a low groan, and calls a weak ‘daddy’ and _finally,_ the basement door creaks open.

Lyall swears, ‘oh my darling,’ he says, and he crouches down. He wraps a blanket around Remus, and slowly lifts Remus into his arms.

Remus cries.

————

They settle him on the sofa, Lyall waving his wand over him, sewing the broken skin back together.

They bring him pain potions that make him dozy, and rub creams and ointments onto the scratches over his body and face. Remus takes sips of water and eventually falls asleep.

————

When Remus wakes it’s the middle of the day, and the sun is streaming through the curtains. He’s lying on the sofa, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. He slowly gets to his feet, and shuffles into the kitchen. Hope and Lyall are sat at the kitchen table, both with mugs. They look up when he enters, and Hope’s reaches her arms out to him.

‘My darling,’ she coos, and he goes willingly, climbing into her lap and letting her tuck him close. ‘Sweetheart, how are you feeling?’

‘Ok.’

‘Yeah, ok?’

Remus nods.

Lyall sits opposite them. There’s a weird silence surrounding them, and no one seems to know what to say. Except Remus has questions bubbling up inside.

‘I’m a werewolf,’ he says, and Hope flinches behind him, but Lyall looks him in the eye and nods.

‘Yes, you are.’

‘And - and that happens every full moon.’

‘Yes.’

Remus nods.

‘And there’s a full moon every -‘

‘Every month,’ Lyall looks him in the eye. ‘Every four weeks, give or take.’

Remus feels like the world has slowed. Hope is crying, resting her face against Remus’ shoulder. Remus can see his life stretched out in front of him. He understands now, why his parents have been acting the way they have.

‘What are you drinking?’

Lyall blinks, and then a slow smile grows on his face.

‘Tea. Do you want to try?’ and he slides the mug across the table to Remus.

Remus takes a sip, and it’s warm and a bit bitter.

‘Do you like it?’ Lyall asks, and Hope presses kisses to Remus’ cheek.

‘Yes,’ Remus says back, and takes another gulp.

_————_

_Full moon number 153, 24 March 1978_

_Cup of tea #6,554_

James and Peter have gone home for Easter, much to Sirius’ disgust.

Peter to see his mum. James to introduce _Lily_ to his parents.

Sirius sulks until they leave for the train. He whines and teases and moans until even James looses his cool and snaps at him.

Once they’ve gone, Sirius returns to the dorm all conspiring smiles, and Remus thinks fondly _you twat._

And then he says fondly, ‘you twat. Why’d you wind him up like that for?’

Sirius just shrugs, as he lounges across James’ bed.

‘Eh, just making sure he doesn’t forget about me.’

‘He would never.’

Sirius stretches. His shirt rides up, and there’s a strip of pale skin exposed above the waistband of he trousers and Remus’ mouth is suddenly dry.

‘You’d never forget about me either,’ Sirius says, and it’s not a question but Remus answers it anyway.

‘Never.’

Sirius looks pleased.

It’s Easter Friday, so they dig into the chocolate Euphemia Potter sent them. She’s a lovely woman.

The spring moons are easier, most of the time. The nights not as dark, moonrise later in the evening, sunrise earlier in the morning. The March one can be hit and miss. Sometimes Remus’ breezes through it. Sometimes he doesn’t.

This one feels ok so far. His stomach is fine, and he gobbles down the chocolate that Sirius hands him, and by mid afternoon they’re sprawled top and tail on James’ bed (because James’ bed is the comfiest bed), reading magazines and gossiping idly.

These are Remus’ favourite moments: when there’s no one else, when Sirius doesn’t feel the need to _perform,_ he can just be. And Remus gets to be the one he can be himself around.

Remus tries not to read into that too much.

Sirius’ leg is warm against Remus’s side, and when he looks down at Sirius where he’s stretched out, something soft wells in his chest.

Sirius smiles, and knocks his knee into Remus’ ribs gently.

‘I’m glad you’re here Moony,’ he sighs.

It’s the most relaxed full moon day Remus has had for a long time.

————

Sirius follows Remus and Madame Pomfrey down to the willow. He follows closer than he would if James were there, and Madame Pomfrey has barely closed the door when Sirius pushes it back open and clambers through.

‘You should be more careful,’ Remus mutters. His teeth are chattering and he feels chilled and clammy. He can’t quite catch his breath, but it doesn’t really matter because Sirius looks at him _like that,_ and Remus almost forgets that he’s about to loose himself.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Sirius says back, ‘She didn’t see me.’

Remus’ muscles spasm, and he groans, deep in his throat.

‘Fuck,’ he half laughs. ‘I don’t know how many more of these I can take.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Sirius snaps, all laughter gone from his face. ‘Don’t even think it.’

‘I think it every moon,’ Remus confesses, ‘all one hundred and fifty three of them.’

Sirius sets the bag down and sits on the edge of the bed. After a moment, he wriggles and lies down so that he and Remus are eye to eye, and tucked together close.

‘One hundred and fifty three full moons,’ Sirius breathes, a look of wonder on his face.

‘Yeah.’

Remus’ eyes burn. He hates this. The moon always leaves him stretched thin, oversensitive and unable to cope with any kind of strong emotion. He swallows hard and tries to stop his teeth from clattering together.

‘I didn’t know it was so many,’ Sirius says.

‘December 1965,’ Remus whispers, ‘one hundred and fifty three full moons ago.’

Sirius lifts a slow hand, and pushes Remus’ sweaty hair back behind his ear.

‘My parents locked me in the basement,’ the words spill out uncensored. He never usually speaks in this time, whatever he says is always too honest, not filtered, but there’s something vulnerable in Sirius’ expression that means the words just flow out of him. ‘I remember screaming and screaming, and I didn’t - I didn’t really know what was happening.’

Remus jolts as a wave of pain strikes up his spine, and he should move away, but Sirius strokes a gentle finger over Remus’ cheek.

‘I knew even then, that this would be it, for the rest of my life,’ his voice breaks.

‘That’s such a difficult thing for a child to cope with,’ Sirius says.

‘It’s better with you,’ Remus says, panting, ‘It’s better when Padfoot’s here.’

Sirius grins, roguish and honest too.

‘I’ll always be here.’

‘You should-‘ Remus’ voice cracks and leaves him, but Sirius understands.

Sirius melts away, and Padfoot lies on the bed next to him. His doggy grin makes Remus laugh, despite the way his bones are starting to creak.

‘I don’t know if I can,’ he whispers, shamefully, and he meets Padfoot’s eye.

Remus melts away.

————

Remus wakes.

He can’t breathe.

Sirius is swearing.

‘Shit, shit. You’re ok Moony, you’re ok.’

Remus is sprawled on the floor, Sirius crouches over him.

‘Breathe Remus,’ he says, his hands on Remus’ face, holding his head up. ‘You’re ok.’

Remus gasps.

————

The hospital wing is cold, and Remus wakes.

Sirius is sat at the side. He’s hunched over and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Madame Pomfrey is fussing around, and it’s her cold hand on Remus’ collar bone that’s woken him.

He hums.

Both Sirius and Madame Pomfrey turn to him immediately.

‘Remus?’ Madame Pomfrey says, and she leans over to peer in his face.

‘What happened?’ he asks, and when he glances over to Sirius, his friend is pale and uncharacteristically sombre.

‘You must have fallen and jolted your ribs, you weren’t breathing properly when I got there.’

Sirius’ face says there’s more to this story, but it’ll save for later.

Madame Pomfrey makes him drink several potions before she leaves them and draws the curtain behind her.

Sirius moves so quickly that Remus barely sees him, until Sirius has dropped to his knees by the bed so that their faces are level.

‘Fuck Remus,’ he says.

‘It’s ok,’ Remus mutters, and he raises his arm and pats Sirius on the shoulder. Sirius leans in, and presses his nose against Remus’ cheek, just like Padfoot does before a full moon.

‘I thought you were - I though you were going to-‘ Sirius sounds like he can’t catch his breath.

‘It’s ok,’ Remus wraps his other arm around Sirius’ shoulders, and holds him close, until Sirius’ breathing slows.

‘It’s ok.’

Pomfrey draws the curtain open again, and she pauses when she sees them, but Sirius doesn’t move even though he must have heard her, so Remus doesn’t move either.

She puts a mug of tea on the side with a gentle click, and strokes her hand over Remus’ head.

‘Have some tea,’ she says, ‘get something warm in you.’

Sirius takes this instruction to heart, and together they prop Remus up, and Sirius pushes the mug into his hands. Remus drinks slowly, everything feels a bit blurry and fuzzy.

When he finishes the tea, Sirius helps settle him back down.

‘Wait,’ Remus says, and he looks down into the bottom of the mug. He laughs, and presses the mug back into Sirius’ hands.

‘Look,’ he whispers, ‘it’s you.’

_————_

_Full moon number 154, 23 April 1978_

_Cups of tea #6,698 and #6,699_

It’s a Sunday.

Remus sleeps in late. When he wakes at gone eleven, his friends are still snoozing.

He showers, and when he catches sight of his bare chest in the mirror, he flinches. The sprawling spider web scars litter most of his upper body. The ones from the previous month are still an angry red, the older ones have faded to white.

He’s still facing the mirror, when Sirius barges in.

They shared a slightly surprised look, each mildly startled by the other, but seven years of sharing a dorm has made communal living the norm, so Sirius takes a piss while Remus brushes his teeth.

Sirius splashes water onto his face, and stretches out the muscles in his back and neck. Remus tries to focus on his tooth brush.

Remus moves back, to let Sirius pass, but he doesn’t. Sirius steps forward, into Remus’ personal space. They meet eyes, and Sirius grins.

‘Alright Moons?’

Remus spits out a mouthful of toothpaste, and wipes his mouth.

‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing,’ Sirius’ eyes are wide and innocent, ‘what could I want except to see how my favourite werewolf is this morning?’

Remus narrows his eyes, and Sirius huffs a laugh.

He steps even closer, until they’re basically nose to nose, and Remus wants to reach out and touch, but -

‘How are you feeling?’ Sirius says, joking gone.

‘Alright,’ Remus says, and he gives in and raises a hand and ghosts it along Sirius’ bare side. ‘Hopefully it won’t be too - too rough.’

‘Last month was - I was worried for you.’

Remus winks and raises an eyebrow, in a clear mockery of James. ‘I’ve survived every full moon so far, this one’ll be fine too.’

‘Yeah, you have.’

Sirius lifts his hand, and puts it on Remus’ waist. His palm is hot and heavy, and there’s something in his eyes, the same kind of recklessness he has before they do something mildly illegal. A clatter comes from the dorm, and they step back in time for James to come around the door frame.

‘Whataya doing? Get out,’ his hair is standing on end, and his glasses are lopsided.

Sirius and Remus share a grin, and oblige.

————

They spend the day in the dorm, lazing about.

James goes back to bed. Peter disappears in the afternoon, apparently for tutoring with some Ravenclaw girl.

Sirius comes and sprawls over the bottom of Remus’ bed.

‘Are you nervous about the moon tonight?’

Remus looks up from his charms homework.

‘You’re a bit obsessed with the moon today. It’s just another moon.’

Sirius avoids his eye, a clear indicator that there’s something going on.

‘What’s up Paddy?’

‘Just -‘ Sirius sighs, and sits up. With a glance over to James’ bed, which confirms their friend is snoozing away. ‘Something you said last moon has been bothering me.’

Remus frowns.

‘I wouldn’t listen to whatever I say when the moon’s coming up. I’d say anything.’

‘You said you didn’t know how many more of them you can take.’

There’s a pause.

‘I wouldn’t listen to that.’

‘Moony.’

Sirius reaches out, and they end up tucked together lengthways on the bed. It’s a bit comical. They used to fit easily, but they’ve both had growth spurts since then, so now it’sa squeeze.

‘Tell me,’ Sirius whispers.

Remus sighs.

‘There’s a moment each month, where I think ‘this is it’. It happens every month, and every month it’s not it. It’s not the end. I’m just tired.’

Sirius nods, and Remus can feel it against his shoulder.

‘I can’t imagine.’

‘I hope you never know.’

Sirius laughs, soft.

‘Oh Moony.’

————

The peace doesn’t last.

By late afternoon Remus is sweating, throwing up into the bin James has put by the side of his bed.

Peter brings Remus a cup of tea.

When the nausea fades for a moment, Remus takes the cup and mutters ‘thanks Wormy.’

He drinks the tea gratefully, and it settles him for a minute. He looks at the bottom of the mug, out of habit.

Sirius watches him.

————

The shack, once again. Stripped naked, and wrapped in the blanket on the damp bed. Madame Pomfrey leaves.

It feels like it never ends.

‘It’s boring,’ Remus announces, as the others clamber through the hatch.

‘What is?’ ask James.

‘This. The whole thing. Every fucking month, every fucking full moon. It’s the same bloody thing. I’m sick and bored.’

They don’t have an answer to that, but James pats him on the back, and Peter tucks the blanket around him. Sirius just watches.

When the moon rises, Remus breathes and breathes and his fiends melt away but he keeps his eyes locked with Sirius, with Padfoot until Remus is gone.

————

He comes back to himself sprawled on the floor.

‘Sorry Moons,’ James says, a laugh in his voice.

There are hands wrapping around his ribs, hands on his shoulders, and his friends lift him and tuck him into the bed.

Sirius is laughing too, and it makes Remus smile. Things must be ok, if Sirius can laugh like that.

‘What happened?’ he mutters, almost intelligible.

‘Wormy made a fool of himself,’ Sirius says, his breath warm on Remus’ ear. ‘I’ll tell you later. Get some rest.’

Remus dozes but doesn’t sleep. He hears James and Peter leave, and he blinks as Sirius crouches by the head of the bed.

With a sleepy hum, Remus reaches out and runs a finger over the back of Sirius’ hand.

Sirius reaches back and holds on tight.

————

The hospital wing. Curtains drawn. Sirius sat by the bed.

This is now normal, and Remus appreciates it so much.

‘Alright Moons?’

Remus shuffles back up the bed, so he’s propped up. He pulls the blanket up, and reaches for the mug that’s sat on the bedside.

‘Yeah, I’m alright.’

He sips the tea. They’re silent for a long while. Companionable.

‘Remus-‘

Remus looks up.

‘You- in your mug, in you- Wait.’ He takes a deep breath, and Remus realises with a jolt that Sirius is _nervous._ ‘We can do this again, if you’re not well?’

Remus gulps down a mouthful of tea.

‘We can, we can do this now.’ Even though Remus doesn’t quite know what ‘this’ is.

They both laugh.

Sirius comes closer, and perches on the end of the bed.

‘I’ve been thinking. Ever since last month, when you showed me the grim in your mug. And you said -‘

‘I think I said ‘it’s you’ didn’t I?’ Remus grins, self deprecating.

‘Yeah, you did. And it got me thinking, that it’s not a grim at all. It’s Padfoot. And _that_ got me thinking, well, what does that mean.’

Remus swallows, hard.

‘I don’t really know what it means. I know what I’d like it to mean.’

‘And what’s that?’

This is it, Remus thinks. This is the moment, where you prove that you are actually a Gryffindor.

‘That you’re - a part of my life. That you’re my - that you’re in my future.’

When he glances up, Sirius is looking suspiciously misty eyed. He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to speak, but no words come out. Remus sits up, and reaches out. He puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

‘I think that you’re incredible,’ Remus says, his voice cracking a little. ‘I think you’re - you’re everything to me Sirius.’

There’s a moment that feels like flying. Like falling. A jolt in his stomach as if he’s missed a step and his foot has hit thin air instead of solid ground.

Sirius leans forward, and kisses him.

It’s a bit clumsy, the way first kisses tend to be. Sirius’ nose bumps Remus’ and it makes Remus smile, which throws the kiss off even more.

They sit huddled together, laughing and kissing until Madame Pomfrey pulls back the curtain. When Remus catches her eye, she just smiles.

Remus doesn’t check the bottom of this mug, for the first time in over a year, but it doesn’t matter because Sirius gently holds Remus’ hand between both of his, and rubs his thumb over Remus’ knuckles gently.

_————_

_Cup of tea #4,442, 12 January 1977_

The Divination classroom is stuffy and hot. When he climbs through the attic door, Remus can already feel the prickle of sweat across his forehead, and on the back of his neck. There’s incense burning in the corner, heavy and sweet, and it makes him cough.

Sirius makes a huffing sound from behind, and Remus guesses he’s having the same problem.

When he catches Sirius’ eye, Sirius winks, and they share a smirk.

Divination. What a joke.

‘Welcome, welcome,’ Blanchett sings, waving her hands around, gesturing for them to sit at the desks. At each one is an ‘artefact’, some have a crystal ball, some tea cups.

Sirius steers them both to the desk right at the back, in the corner closest to the window. This desk has a pack of tarot cards, and Remus flicks through them idly.

‘Welcome,’ Professor Blanchett says. She’s an incredibly _big_ woman. She’s tall, and towers over most of the students, she wide and broad. She just takes up so much space.

‘Your previous Professor has had to leave unexpectedly,’ she says, as if they don’t already know this. ‘So together we will be stepping into the world of the beyond!’

‘Merlin’s beard,’ Sirius mutters from Remus’ right.

‘Today we will be rotating through the most common principles of Divination.’ There’s a pause. ‘Your previous Professor did not leave me with much to go on as to your progress.’

‘What progress?’ Remus mutters to Sirius, who snorts.

‘Get into partners, and move around the room in a clockwork motion. I’ll be joining each of you momentarily.’

The room dissolves into chatter, as everyone gets into pairs and stands up. No one approaches them - everyone has assumed he and Sirius will partner up.

They’re right.

‘Well,’ Sirius sighs, picking up the pack of cards, and fanning them out in his hand. ‘Pick a card, any card.’

‘I’m surprised you even know that.’

‘Are you kidding? I love muggle magic.’

Remus smiles, and waves his hand back and forth over the cards, eyes closed focusing intently, playing into Sirius’ bit.

Sirius is making an humming sound under his breath. Remus assumes it’s supposed to sound magical and spiritual. When it dissolves into the opening of an Eagles song that Sirius and James have been playing on repeat for two weeks, Remus takes that as a hint to pick a card.

He does, pulling one from the middle of the deck and when he turns it over Sirius cackles.

It’s the grim reaper.

‘Bad luck Moons. It was nice knowing you.’

‘What a piss take. I was looking forward to Hogsmeade on Saturday.’

‘Truly a pity. Can I have your records?’

‘Absolutely not.’

They move on to the next station.

Sirius holds Remus’ palm in his dry hands, and Remus has to breathe slowly, to slow his suddenly racing heart.

Apparently the break in the line half way across his palm, signifies -

‘Death,’ Sirius declares dramatically, after studying the text book intently for a moment.

‘Fuck off,’ Remus says, pulling his hand back. It’s true that there’s a break in the line, but ‘That was from an injury, it wasn’t like that originally.’

‘That doesn’t really help your case though, if you think about it.’

The next station.

They light the candles, and Sirius nearly sets his hair on fire when he leans too close. They spend the next ten minutes flicking bits of wax at each other, and then each daring the other to drop wax on his arm from a closer and closer height.

When the do eventually look at the patterns on the desk, looking for symbols and runes, Sirius says, ‘looks a bit like a skull there,’ and although Remus thinks he’s taking the mick, there is, _in fact,_ a fairly good likeness to a scull in candle wax.

_Merlin’s beard._

The next station.

A large bowl of water, with various crystals floating gently at the bottom. Remus and Sirius amuse themselves by flicking water at each other, before Sirius says ‘you know, doesn’t that crystal look a bit like a skull too?’ and Remus doesn’t even look at it before he thumps Sirius on the back.

The next station.

Professor Blanchett joins them, so they have to resist the urge to flick boiling water at each other.

‘Boys, please take a seat,’ and she gestures to the desk in front of her.

They sit, and Remus gratefully takes the cup of earl grey that she pours from a huge ornate tea pot. ‘Tell me,’ Professor Blanchett ‘how much have you had with the practice of tasseography?’

At Sirius’ blank look, Remus says, ‘some,’ (which is a damn lie) ‘I’ve found that reading tea leaves isn’t quite my strength.’

Sirius makes a soft ‘ah’ sound under his breath.

‘And what is your strength, Mr Lupin?’

Remus’ brain stalls, and it’s not helped by Sirius snorting into his tea cup.

‘Cleromancy,’ Remus blurts out, because it’s the only one he can think off.

Professor Blanchett turns to Sirius, ‘And you Mr Black?’

‘Dreams,’ Sirius says gravely ‘I have very vivid dreams.’

‘Really,’ she says leaning in closer.

‘Oh yes,’ Sirius says, nodding, flashing her a wide charming grin.

Remus feels like slamming his head on the table.

‘Oneiromancy is difficult, it’s one of the more subjective areas.’

‘It’s also,’ Remus says, just to wind Sirius up, ‘very difficult to prove.’

Sirius pinches him in the side, but Professor Blanchett is nodding in agreement.

Remus chugs the last of his tea, and then tips out the dregs, leaving the tea leaves at the bottom. Professor Blanchett turns her attention back to him.

‘Right, Mr Lupin, what have we got in the tea cup? Anything?’

Sirius takes a big audible gulp of tea to his right. He’s trying not to laugh, and Remus finds it very off-putting.

Remus peers into the bottom of the cup, and turns it around slowly. He’s racking his brain for anything, any inspiration, when, _actually,_ there’s a fucking dog in the bottom of his tea cup. He blinks for a moment, just in case he’s seeing things. But yes, there is the outline of a dog.

‘Um,’ he says uncertainly, and when Professor Blanchett takes the cup and looks in, she lets out a gasp and clutches her chest. Sirius chokes on his tea, and all Remus can hear is Sirius coughing in his ear.

For fucks sake.

‘The grim,’ she hisses, eyes wide and shocked, and Sirius doesn’t even pretend to hide his laughter. He’s coughing still, and now laughing and he has tears welling in the corner of his eye, and when he meets Remus’ eyes he howls and lays his head down on the table.

‘The grim,’ Remus repeats, solemnly, to try and repair the damage Sirius is doing to their reputation with this new teacher.

‘My dear boy,’ she says, and now _she_ has tears welling in _her_ eyes.

Remus just wants this class to end.

————

Remus takes the cup with him when he leaves.

Later, when he’s wrapped up in his duvet, and he’s drawn the curtains around his bed. He can hear the others gossiping and laughing, something about the latest Potions lesson.

Remus examines the cup closely, and compares to his Divination text book. After a while he can’t deny it any longer. 

There is a dog in his tea leaves, but it’s not a grim.

It’s definitely Padfoot.

Remus doesn’t know what to make of that.

_————_

_Full moon number 155, 22 May 1978_

_Cup of tea #6,850 and #6,851_

It takes them most of the next month to cement whatever-it-is between them.

James catches them kissing in the dorm two weeks in, when they thought he was at Quidditch practice, and he blinks twice, nods to himself, and then laughs his way back out of the dorm.

He mutters to them later in common room, once everyone else has gone to bed, his general congratulations.

‘I’m glad for you guys,’ he says, ruffling his hair, in that way that signifies a genuine gesture. ‘I hope - that you’re happy. Together.’

James’ approval means more than Remus can articulate.

Sirius obviously feels the same, if the way he thumps James on the back is any indication.

It’s ok. It’s nice.

And when Sirius kisses his, between classes, and presses close, it’s more than _nice._

_————_

May full moon day is -

Sore.

But greatly improved by the way Sirius rubs his shoulders for him.

Peter has finally cottoned on to the fact that there’s something going on between him and Sirius, and he’s watching with narrowed eyes and raised eyebrows.

Remus sees James and Peter whispering twenty minutes later, and when they return Peter looks less surprised, but no less confused.

 _Bless._ Remus thinks, suddenly fond. He definitely won’t mention it to Sirius later, and Sirius definitely won’t take it as a hint to educate Wormy on the finer details of relationships.

Nope.

He would never do that.

————

Peter brings him a cup of tea late in the afternoon - some kind of herbal one that smells like flowers, and tastes very sweet. Remus drinks gratefully, and takes it as the approval and peace offering that it is.

————

The peace sort of lasts.

Later, in the shack again. Stripped, settled on the bed. The mundane routine of Remus’ life.

‘Boring,’ he mutters into the pillow, and James nods gravely at his side.

‘I know Moons,’ he sighs, ‘it is bloody boring isn’t it.’

It’s validating, to have this thought confirmed. And even through Sirius and James share a look that sort of suggests that having their friend turn into a howling monster every four weeks, and the fact they regularly spend the night risking life and limb running round with a werewolf isn’t what they would call _boring,_ they also seem to acknowledge that they don’t have the worst part of this experience.

Or maybe Remus is just projecting.

Either way, Sirius pets his hair, and Peter hums off tune. James fusses around with the blankets and the warming charms.

When the moon starts to pull, and Remus can feel the churning in his blood, in his bones, Remus just breathes, and lets it take him.

It’s fine, he thinks.

————

He’s still mostly fine, when he wakes, first in the shack to Sirius’ face peering down at him, and then second an hour later in the hospital wing.

All in all, it’s one of the most unassuming full moonshe’s ever experienced. So much so that even Sirius comments on it, when Pomfrey leaves them.

‘Feeling good Moons?’ he whispers, gentle fingers stroking over Remus' cheek, stroking the scar tissue that cuts through his right eyebrow, and the one that snakes over his nose.

Remus hums his agreement.

‘Seemed like a good moon? If there is such a thing?’ Sirius presses, still gentle.

‘I’m happy,’ Remus says, and Sirius blinks at the non-sequitur.

‘I’m glad?’

‘No,’ Remus pushes himself up slightly, so he can look at Sirius’ face properly. ‘I think it’s - it’s because I’m happy. So if I’m happy, Moony is happy. And that means that moons are - not easy, but easier.’

Sirius watches for a moment, so many words unsaid between them, and then he smiles slowly. He’s heard what Remus has just implied, and though Remus isn’t quite brave enough to voice exactly what he wants to say, he settles for the next best thing.

‘You make me happy,’ he confesses, and it _feels_ like a confession.

Sirius grins, wide and leans in for a kiss.

They kiss for a long while, so much so that Pomfrey has to clear her throat loudly when she comes around the curtain, and they break apart slightly breathless.

They share a grin.

‘I think you can go Remus,’ she says, eying his chart critically. ‘You’ll probably rest better in your own bed, than here.’

Remus wonders if he’s the only one who hears the slight emphasis that she puts on ‘your bed’, but judging by the way Sirius sniggers into his sleeve, he’s not. Remus puts on his best prefect face, but Pomfrey just watches him with pursed lips.

‘Yes Ma’am,’ he says agreeably, and she nods and lets them go.

————

They hold hands on the walk back up to Gryffindor tower.

Just before they go in, Sirius leans close, and Remus can feel Sirius’ breath on his cheek and he can fee the hair on his arm stand on end, goosebumps.

‘You make me happy too,’ Sirius says, soft and genuine, and Remus kisses him again.

_————_

_Full moon number 192, 18 October 1981_

_Cup of tea #13,757_

Lily clasps Remus’ hand tight in hers. So tight that her nails dig in, and leave crescent moon marks on his palm.

She’s the only one who’ll sit next to him.

James won’t meet his eye. Sirius -

He hasn’t seen Sirius in two weeks. The last time they’d seen each other, they had a horrendous fight. Each slinging cutting insults and words meant to hurt, and then Sirius had walked out and Remus had known in his heart, that Sirius wasn’t coming back.

That it’s probably over.

Remus wonders, vaguely, what he’s told James and Lily. He’s told them something, by the way Lily’s holding his hand, but he doesn’t know if that’s out of care for him, or if she’s pissed at Sirius.

Remus hasn’t slept for three days. He’s worn thin, spending time with the werewolf packs north, trying to persuade them to join Dumbledore’s cause, but it’s futile. As long as Greyback is alive, as long as his power of the pack of disenfranchised people exists, the pack won’t side with Dumbledore.

Remus has tried.

God, he’s tried.

But they look at him, and they see a domesticated wolf. Wizards look at him, and see a wild animal with a wand.

His head aches. His eyes are gritty, and there’s a throbbing behind his eyes.

Words drift over him like waves on a beach. Until -

‘Remus,’ Lily says in his ear, squeezing his hand. ‘Do you understand?’

Remus swallows and it feels like grit in his mouth.

‘Sorry, no. What?’

Sirius’ mouth twists in annoyance.

‘Fillidious charm,’ he snaps. ‘For Prongs and Lily. Tonight.’

Ah.

‘Sure. Good,’ and then they’re all still looking at him, so he feels like he should say something more. ‘Who?’

‘Me,’ Sirius says.

There’s something off about the way he says it. He keeps eye contact with Remus, a sort of intensity that’s not pitched right, for the simple word he’s just said. He doesn’t take his eyes off Remus’ face, and it’s like he’s waiting for something, but for the life of him, Remus doesn’t know what it is.

‘That’s dangerous,’ he mutters.

‘So?’

James is silent. Lily’s hand clutches Remus’ so tight, that he can feel his bones sliding against each other.

‘You should - you be safe, Pads.’

It’s not the right thing to say, to wipe that awful intensity off his face, but it’s not the wrong thing either. Sirius mellows, and leans back in his chair.

There’s silence.

They sit around the table, and the clock ticks away. Eventually James mutters, ‘we should go,’ and ‘Harry.’

They’re not joining Remus for the full. They haven’t in months.

Lily kisses Remus on the cheek. She lingers, holding him close, and Remus leans into her. She’s soft and warm, and Remus _hurts._

He wants to cry.

James pats him on the back and then they leave, hand in hand.

Petter scurries off. Dumbledore leaves.

Until it’s just the two of them.

‘Where are you changing?’ Sirius asks slowly.

‘I - I can’t tell you. You know that.’

‘I’ll come with you, if you want?’

Remus starts. They haven’t spent a full moon together for months, as much as Remus wants to say yes, he can’t.

‘You can’t,’ he whispers, deeply apologetic. ‘I’d like you to, but you can’t.’

‘Fine.’

They get to their feet at the same time. It’s cold outside, and Remus’ coat is threadbare and thin. It’s starting to get dark. They loiter for a moment, and then Remus says, ‘I need to go.’

Sirius steps forward, into Remus’ space.

He kisses Remus, slowly, lingering. Sirius’ arms come up around Remus, palms resting on the flat of his back, digging in the way he likes. Remus leans into it, bringing his own arms up. They kiss under the stars for a long minute, before Sirius pulls back.

‘Be safe, yeah?’ He whispers.

‘I should be saying that to you,’ Remus says, but Sirius shakes his head, so Remus leans forward and kisses the corner of his mouth. ‘I’ve survived every full so far, I’ll survive this one too, don’t worry.’

Sirius leans their foreheads together, and they kiss again.

Remus has to push him away, the time before moonrise running down.

It’s only when he starts to strip off, in the cold forrest in the Scottish highlands, with twenty other people, that he realises how Sirius’ kisses felt -

That they felt like a goodbye.

————

Greyback grins when Remus drops to his knees, groaning in pain.

He doesn’t have to bare the indignity for long, before they’re both gone.

————

Remus wakes in the mud.

Something snaps inside him.

He’s never, truly, been at breaking point until this second, but now he’s here, he knows it. Truly knows it.

He clambers to his feet, ignores the stabbing pain in his middle, and the way that his limbs are slick with blood. It takes a moment to walk back to the main camp, pull on his trousers, and then he turns and apparates away.

Greyback’s laugh echos in his ears.

————

The flat is dingy and dusty. He hasn’t cleaned since Sirius left. Remus stumbles in, locks the door, triple checks it, and the bolts for the bathroom.

He vomits violently, the bile a sickeningly vibrant red.

‘Please,’ he cries, ‘please.’

He imagines if Sirius were here. He imagines that Sirius still loves him.

If Sirius were he would -

‘Jesus fuck,’ Sirius gasps from the doorway, and it’s hard to say who’s more surprised. When Remus looks up, Sirius is in his pyjamas, clutching his wand. He looks like he’s just woken from being asleep.

They gaze at each other for a moment, before Remus turns back to the toilet bowl.

His retching spurs Sirius in action.

‘Shit, Remus,’ he says again, but it’s gentler, softer.

It’s the kindest anyone’s been to him in weeks, and it’s too much.

He just cries, and he can’t even hide it. Loud, snorting gasps, because he’s filthy, and hurting, because there’s blood _everywhere,_ and Sirius doesn’t love him anymore.

‘Ok, ok,’ a blanket is wrapped around Remus’ shoulders. Sirius flushes the toilet, and managers to haul Remus to his feet, and Remus must black out because when he comes back to himself he’s lying on the sofa, and Sirius is wiping his chest with a flannel.

‘Shhh,’ Sirius hushes him, ‘shh.’

He sounds tired.

They’re both so fucking tired.

————

Later, once he’s showered and healed, Sirius tucks Remus into their bed.

He disappears and comes back with a mug of tea, and puts it on the side. He joins Remus in bed, to Remus’ surprise, and curls up. They lie in silence.

‘Thank you,’ Remus whispers, and Sirius flinches.

‘Don’t.’

‘Ok. I love you,’ because Remus hasn’t said it for a long while.

Sirius presses a kiss to Remus’ shoulder.

‘I love you too,’ he whispers back.

It sounds genuine, and Remus clutches on to it tight.

————

When Remus wakes again, Sirius is gone. The tea on the side is cold, but he drinks it anyway.

Padfoot grins a doggy grin from the bottom of the mug. 

_————_

_Full moon number 189, 17 July 1981_

_Cup of tea #12,407_

Remus wonders how angry Sirius will be, if he’s not already, and the guilt churns uncomfortably in his gut.

He was supposed to spend the moon with Sirius and the others, but at the last minute Dumbledore had sent a message with details of a werewolf pack in Norway with suspected links to death eater activity, so here Remus is.

Oslo is cold, despite being the height of summer, and Remus watches the sun drop below the horizon line, and his hands shake and there’s chill in his bones.

There’s a woman named Stacey, blonde and skinny, with red sore lips and big blue eyes. She must be only a little older than Remus, but there’s something about her that seems incredibly young.

She holds out a half empty bottle of water, and Remus sips from it gratefully. Muggle, he thinks, looking at the plastic, and he feels a pang of sympathy. Would it be worse being a werewolf if you were a muggle he wonders, or is it better to know nothing of this world and how it discriminates against them?

He doesn’t know.

A patronus flashes up, half corporeal, and the others look at Remus curiously, but Remus waves it away with his hand.

It’s enough that he recognises padfoot. He can guess the message without hearing it, and he doesn’t want to hear Sirius’ voice, accusing, panicked ‘where are you?’

Ask Dumbledore, Remus thinks, bitter. Dumbledore knows everything.

Remus thinks Dumbledore’s information is faulty, when everyone in the group seems to have arrived, and its Stacey, a couple of boys and an old woman. His heart jumps when there’s a crack of apparition, and he looks over his shoulder to meet the cold eyes of Frenir Greyback.

It takes all of Remus’ experience and will to keep a straight face, to not give himself away. It works, or rather it appears to, as Greyback's eyes slide over Remus and come to rest on Stacey beside him.

He opens his arms. ‘My friends’, Greyback croons, and one of the boys’ face lights up.

‘Frenir,’ he says in return, accent thick. ‘My brother.’

They shake hands, and slap each other on the back.

 _Dumbledore was right,_ Remus realises. This isn’t an initial meeting, this is an established contact.

‘Marcus, how are you?’

‘I thought you weren’t going to show.’

Greyback makes a gross sucking noise through his teeth. ‘I wouldn’t leave you my brother.’

A quick run around the circle of names, Marcus introducing the others, Remus introduces himself as ‘Lloyd’, and then the moon is upon them.

Remus watches through gritted teeth and barely open eyes as Greyback turns, his head thrown back and a gleeful almost euphoric expression on his face.

Remus has never seen anyone change like that before.

————

When he wakes, it’s to Greyback leant over him, hand on Remus’ cheek, foul breath on his face.

Greyback sniffs, loudly, and whispers, ‘did you think I wouldn’t recognise you Lupin? I would know your stench anywhere.’

Remus swallows hard, but keeps his face blank and impassive.

‘I didn’t like to presume,’ he says, as though they were talking over tea. ‘I don’t use that name anymore.’

Greyback laughs, and lets him go.

‘How’s your father?’

Remus doesn’t answer.

————

‘Where the fuck were you?’

Remus wakes to Sirius leaning over him, and he can’t help the flinch he gives: for a moment he thought it was Greyback again.

He’ll have to go to Hogwarts today, and give a report to Dumbledore. He should go soon, actually, it’s passed midday already, judging by the light streaming in the flat windows.

‘Remus!’ Sirius snaps, and shakes his shoulder gently, bringing Remus’ attention back to him.

‘Sorry,’ Remus mutters. His head is swimming, and it looks like Sirius realises it because he sighs, and sits on the edge of the bed.

‘Where were you? I’ve been worried.’ He strokes a hand over Remus’ head, and down his neck, and Remus leans into the touch. ‘I thought we were spending the moon in the shack?’

‘Change of plans at the last minute. I had something to do for Dumbledore.’

Remus doesn’t dare look at Sirius’ face. There’s a chance he’ll accept this at face value, but it’s slim, and sure enough -

‘What for Dumbledore?’

Remus hoists himself up to sitting, and reaches out to Sirius. He puts his hand on Sirius’ back.

‘I can’t tell you,’ he says, soft, gentle.

Sirius looks away in anger, face twisted, and Remus feels a pang of guilt.

‘I can’t tell you,’ he says again, ‘Dumbledore made me promise-‘

‘Oh well, so long as you’re Dumbledore’s good boy, that’s all that matters.’

‘Don’t do this, Sirius.’

‘Don’t do what? You don’t tell me anything nowadays. I don’t know anything. I don’t know where you are. Do you know how that feels?’

Remus does. He doesn’t have a clue as to what Sirius or James are up to nowadays. He only sees Peter once a week. It would be counter productive to say this to Sirius. It would only stoke the fire that’s already burning, and he fears it wouldn’t take much to light it up completely.

‘I’m sorry,’ he breathes, and leans forward resting his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder. He presses dry lips to Sirius’ skin. ‘I’m sorry, I love you.’

He has nothing else to offer.

Sirius sighs, but he deflates, as thought the air puffs right out of him. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Remus’ head.

‘Drink your tea,’ he says in response, and gets up and leaves.

Remus reaches out, and takes the tea from the side, and gulps it down gratefully. He doesn’t look at the bottom, just lays back and drifts back off to sleep.

_————_

_Full moon number 181, 22 November 1980_

_Cup of tea #11,202_

Lily and James’ London house is lovely.

It’s not even comparable to Remus and Sirius’ flat, which is tiny, falling apart and messy, this town house is _beautiful._ He can’t even begin to imagine how much it cost, though he supposes that James can afford it.

It backs out on to the river, and there’s a spacious garden, and a primary school down the road.

Remus sits on the floor of the living room, a mug of tea balanced on the side and in front of him, sat mostly upright is _Harry._

Harry turns a gummy grin in Remus’ direction, and Remus picks up the teddy they’ve been playing with, and hands it back to him. Harry puts the foot in his mouth, and munches on it in, what Remus assumes, is enjoyment.

Remus sits back, leaning against the sofa and scoops up the baby, settling him on Remus’ lap. There’s a story book on the side, so Remus picks it up, and reads ‘where’s my teddy?’ to Harry.

Harry’s a bit young to fully appreciate the story, but Remus thinks his storytelling skills, and the colourful pictures keep him amused.

Lily is keeping an eye on them from the kitchen, where she’s having a serious conversation with Alice over cups of what Remus suspects is spiked tea. Remus couldn’t care less. He’s had more than his fair share of serious conversations lately. He would much rather enjoy ‘where’s my teddy?’ with Harry.

‘Isn’t that right?’ he asks the baby, ‘isn’t that right?’

Harry grumbles in a vaguely agreeing manner, still chewing on teddy.

‘Exactly,’ Remus says, keeping up his monologue for Harry, his tone light and bouncy.

Alice pokes her head around the door, and leans against the doorframe. Remus looks up at her, and she grins at him though she has a drawn tired look behind her eyes.

‘You’re a natural,’ she says.

Remus laughs. ‘Not really, but I’m getting better.’

There’s a lull, and then Remus adds ‘I’m sorry about Marlene,’ for lack of anything else to say.

Alice still has that pinched expression on her face, and nods slowly.

‘Thank you. It was awful. Just awful. Frank and I are devastated.’

Remus strokes a hand over Harry’s head, and tickles his cheek just to see if he can get the baby to laugh. Harry’s giggle is infectious, and when he looks back up at Alice, she’s smiling again.

Lily reappears, from wherever she’d disappeared to, and Remus hands Harry over.

‘I’d better go Lils,’ he says regretfully, ‘moon tonight.’ He chugs the rest of his tea, without the customary glance at the bottom of the mug.

It takes another twenty minutes for him to extract himself, between Lily insisting on plying him with a lasagne, and Alice insisting that he and Sirius come round hers for tea next week. He has to jog down Hogsmeade road to the shack, and when he gets there Sirius is already there. Smoking.

‘That’s disgusting,’ Remus mutters, as he strips off his jumper.

Sirius puts out the cigarette, and tosses it.

‘Sorry.’

It’s the longest conversation they’ve had in a month. Sirius seems to realise too, because he moves closer, wraps his arms around Remus and kisses him.

‘You alright? I feel like I haven’t seen you.’

Remus nods into Sirius’ shoulder. He can feel the moon pressing down on him, and _god_ he hates it.

‘I hate this,’ he mutters, clenching his jaw, and Sirius rubs warm hands up and down Remus’ back.

‘I know,’ Sirius says back.

————

James misses the moon, but Peter makes it, scurrying in just as Remus starts to loose himself.

He wakes to a bitter taste in his mouth, a fucked up knee, and a miserable partner - although he thinks that Sirius has had a falling out with James, which is probably the cause of his sulk. Lily had implied as much.

Sirius lugs them home with little fuss, and Remus sleeps.

————

‘What’s the matter darling?’ Remus whispers. It’s late at night, and he’s trying to sleep, the bedroom dark and the no-longer-full-moon lighting up the sky. Sirius has been tossing and turning for the last hour.

Sirius sighs, ‘sorry to wake you.’

‘Just tell me what’s wrong?’

Sirius turns again, and they wriggle close together, faces inches apart.

‘It all just feels like too much, you know?’

Remus hums.

‘And sometimes I think - I don’t think we’re going to make it though this intact you know? Prongs and I had a stupid fight earlier, about this, and I just. I hate this. I hate it all.’

It’s funny, hearing the same sentiments in his heart, spill from Sirius’ lips.

‘We will,’ Remus says, ploughing straight in. ‘We will make it, and we will make it intact.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do, because I believe it.’

‘It feels like Prongs and Lily are the only ones who’ll make it, wrapped up in their precious little bubble, and the rest of us will suck it.’

Remus is starting to understand what Sirius and James were fighting about.

‘That’s not really fair. I’d hate to be Prongs right now. I’d rather be us.’

Sirius blinks.

‘Yeah?’

‘Of course. Can you imagine having a baby now? Sounds like a nightmare to me. You can have all the money in the world, and a pretty house in the outskirts of London, but that doesn’t change the fact that his wife is muggleborn, and he has a baby to look after. Nah, I wouldn’t like it.’

Sirius breathes out slowly.

‘I guess.’

‘We just have ourselves, and we’ll make it. I’m sure of that. Even me, with my less than ideal circumstances.’

‘I’m surprised you’re such an optimist moons.’ Sirius sounds more like himself now.

‘It’s been known to happen,’ Remus mutters into the pillow, feeling suddenly weary.

‘You think we’re going to make it? After what’s happened to Marlene, and Dorcus? And Benji, and -‘

‘Yes,’ Remus says firmly. ‘I do think we’re going to make is. Us, and Prongs, Wormy, Lily, and Harry. I do, truly think we’re going to make it.’

Sirius leans over for a kiss. He misjudges it a bit, pressing a wet kiss to Remus’ chin, and they snigger for a moment. The bonuses of a long term relationship.

‘I do love you moons,’ Sirius whispers against Remus’ lips.

‘I love you too.’

_————_

_Full moon number 156, 20 June 1978_

_Cup of tea #7,000_

It’s the final full moon of the school year.

Remus doesn’t know how to feel about this. Exams are wrapping up, so it’s that weird time of the year when they’re all still in school, but there’s not a huge amount to do. Those with exams to go are still stressed - Remus has one final Divination exam but he’s not particularly worried about it - and those who don’t are just dossing around.

James and Peter have care of magical creatures to go, Sirius has at least three, making him the most stressed for what is perhaps the first and only time. He’s been clutching his colour coded revision timetable (curtesy of Prongs, who loves an organiser. Yet another of his attributes Remus had pitched to Lily), with increasing panic. Lily has two exams to go, but he saw her and Marlene trying to tie dye their hair with neon sparkly goop at the weekend, so he suspects that she’s already checked out.

The Divination exam is today, and McGonagall had taken him to the side and apologised for it coinciding with the moon. They’d managed to schedule the rest around it, giving enough time after for Remus to recover, but they hadn’t managed this one.

Apparently, it’s tradition to have the Divination exam on a full moon. Helps with the energies.

‘Or something,’ Marlene tells him over breakfast. ‘I wasn’t really listening.’

‘Makes sense,’ Remus says, nodding.

Beckett’s attic room is full of incense and it smells sickly sweet. It turns Remus’ already sensitive stomach, his heightened sense of smell making it worse. He swallows hard, twice, again and gulps a mouthful of water from the pouch Marlene had passed him on her way out.

‘Stinks in there,’ she’d said. ‘You might need it.’

He’s grateful for it.

Beckett and the examiner are watching him curiously, but Remus manages to pull himself under control, and he sits with a sheepish duck of his head, and a prefect smile. The examiner smiles back.

‘Right Mr Lupin, you know how this works,’ the man with a balding head and glasses says, ‘We’re going to spend the next hour on three randomly selected methods of divination. I’ll ask you questions on them, and then ask for a practical demonstration.’

Remus nods. ‘I already know which methods you’ve selected,’ he quips and he sees Beckett snigger into her teacup.

The man - Greengrass his badge reads - nods, and reaches under the table and brings out -

Dried animal bones.

 _Right,_ Remus thinks. _Ok._

‘Osteomancy,’ he says confidently, and Greengrass makes a note on his paper.

————

Remus is sweating, both because it’s hot in here, even Greengrass has beads of sweat on his shiny head, and because this is, perhaps, the most mortifying hour of his life.

The bones had made a very clear - undeniable - representation of death, and the moon. Beckett had helpfully added that Remus consistently saw the grim in his readings, to Greengrass’ astonishment.

His next demonstration where he manipulated a handful of gemstones - Lithomancy - lead to a similar prediction. A striking representation of a dog (because it’s not a grim, for sure) lies on the table in front of them.

Beckett and Greengrass look on with wide eyes.

Finally, Beckett passes over a cup of over stewed tea, and Remus strongly has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He gulps down the tea, and pours out the dregs.

 _Let’s put on a bit of a show,_ he thinks.

He tips the cup left and right, humming to himself, and when he glances up, Beckett and Greengrass are on the edge of their seats.

‘I see, a tragic, untimely death,’ he predicts. ‘I have. The grim.’

And with a flourish he hands over the tea cup, and watches with repressed amusement, and Beckett and Greengrass pass the cup between them.

When he leaves, Greengrass shakes his hand enthusiastically, and says ‘my dear boy.’

————

When the others ask how his exam went, Remus laughs and says ‘smashed it.’

————

The evening is rubbish, Remus can’t eat dinner, and he curls up in his bed for an hour trying to nap.

Later. The shack, sunset. Madam Pomfrey. Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

The bloody routine of the last three years.

Remus gasps for breathe, but Sirius holds his hands, and Peter hums off key to himself. Remus blinks and blinks and blinks through watering eyes, and then he’s gone.

————

He wakes to the hospital wing.

Remus takes a moment before he opens his eyes, listens to Madame Pomfrey pottering in her office, the breathing of the few students in beds further down the ward, and then -

The soft humming of what sounds like ‘staying alive’. Sirius is a sucker of disco.

Remus opens his eyes, and turns, and sure enough Sirius is doing some sort of yoga-esque pose in the chair, humming to himself, tinkering once again with the map.

‘I have an idea,' he mutters, not looking up at Remus.

‘Dangerous.’

Sirius laughs, ‘I know. But this is a good one, Prongsy thought so.’

‘That doesn’t make it a good idea, just because James thinks it is. I have a list that says otherwise.’

Sirius hushes him, firmly.

‘I’ve fixed up the map, fixed the glitch from the other week-‘

‘I told you, I didn’t spill anything on it.’

‘-and I know what we should do when we graduate. We should let Filch confiscate it.’

Remus sits up, and Sirius helps him with his pillows.

‘You what?’

‘Genius, right?’ Sirius says, with a grin and wink. ‘We’ll let Filch confiscate it, and then when some young idealistic mischief maker steals it, we’ll know that it’s gone to someone worthy of it.’

‘Insane.’

‘Genius!’

‘Stupid.’

‘Inspired!’

‘I like it, we’ll do it,’ Remus says laughing.

Sirius has a wild look in his eye, and he flops down on the bed, shoving Remus gently.

‘Bastard,’ he says, but he’s laughing too. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine,’ Remus says, ‘Let’s not talk about that now. I like this time of the month the most.’

‘Really?’

‘Right now, I am the furthest away from a full moon as I’ll ever be.’

‘Huh.’

They sit in silence for a moment, before Sirius leans over and presses a kiss to Remus’ cheek.

‘We’ll let Filch confiscate the map,’ Remus says, to get the conversation back on track. ‘Or better, use the cloak and sneak it into his desk. We don’t want him to destroy it, or something stupid like that.’

‘Good thinking.’

They share a laugh, and Remus lays back down.

————

Graduation comes and goes, and afterwards Remus feels -

Underwhelmed, and overwhelmed simultaneously.

But Lily wraps an arm around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder, and Sirius holds his hand. James wraps an arm around the other side of Lily, and Peter fills the gap, and they stand there for a moment.

‘Alright gang?’ James says, soft and half joking.

Lily looks up at Remus, and so does Sirius, so he says, ‘Yeah Prongs, we’re alright.’

————

_You and I used to shine like a jewel_

_But time’s been nothing to us but cruel_

_‘Sweet Illusions’ by Ryan Adams_

————

END.

————


End file.
